He wondered if this was something that happened early on to those that touched the crystals. It could be adapting to his body, changing it slowly? He’d have to ask Michelle when she got back.
She had been gone for the better part of the day. He wasn’t worried for her safety. She’d gone toe-to-toe with Mayor Carcass and lasted longer than any other Super would have in town. The girl was more than capable of looking after herself.
Lunch was a pleasant affair. Lucy had settled in quickly. She took charge in the kitchen and whipped them up all a tasty meal of beef stroganoff. After eating, Lucas stepped out into the front, and that was when the Mercedes Benz GLC pulled up the drive away.
Michelle was back, but she hadn’t returned alone. Sitting beside her in the front seat was another girl.
She looked familiar.
It was the Super that had chased him down Broad Street in Buxworth Town. She had an arm missing. Was that from when Lucas’s grenade had blown it off? It hadn’t grown back?
When he looked closer, he could see the arm from the knee down, the tip was elongated egg-shaped. Maybe it was growing back slowly. Lucas wondered what that would have felt like, the bone and skin growing back slowly, would it be a constant aching pain?
Thoughts of how her arm felt shifted from Lucas’s mind as he began to wonder what the Super was doing here.
He didn’t get a chance to ask.
The crippled Super leapt at him, and as she did, she held her single hand extended out, palm flat. The skin in the centre of her palm opened up, a black hole appeared, and from there, a wooden spike shot out towards him.
Lucas was thankful for his reflexes, honed by years of constant training and battling, he turned sideways, and the spike flew past him. As it crashed into the door and shattered, splintering and sending little bits of wood flying about, the Super slammed into him.
She knocked him to the ground and sitting on his chest, she brought her fist down on him.
Her single fist.
Lucas raised both his arms to protect his face.
Despite having only one fist, the Super did hit hard. And every punch hurt more than the one before as her strength began to increase, as happened when Supers fought. Not sure how much more of this he could take, Lucas managed to hold the Super’s arm and stop her from punching him.
She stared down at him, fury in her eyes, she slammed her forehead against his. Lucas winced as his head bounced back against the paved front lawn. His grip on her arm loosened as his head spun. The Super broke free and resumed her punching.
Thankfully, it was a brief resumption.
Michelle appeared from behind and grabbed the Super. She picked her up and threw her off him. Lucas was grateful for that. But as he sat up, he noticed the Mercedes bore a human shaped dent by the side doors.
The Super climbed to her feet, a little groggy. “I’m going to fucking kill you!” she roared.
It wasn’t aimed at Michelle.
It was aimed at Lucas.
There was pure rage in the Super’s eyes, and Lucas didn’t doubt she meant to kill him. He scrambled to his feet and raised his fists in a traditional boxer’s pose.
“Is it because of the arm?” Lucas asked.
“Fuck you,” came the response.
The Super held her hand out, palm flat, the black hole appeared once more. But before a spike could shoot out, a bolt of blue slammed into the Super and sent her flying across the front lawn. This time, she slammed into the trunk of one of the trees that formed a wall around the property.
As the Super hit the dirt, her arm pressed against the ground, trying to push herself up. But she was stopped in her tracks as Michelle fired bolt after bolt of blue at the girl until she stopped moving, until she lay still on the ground, as if dead.
But Lucas knew she wasn’t dead. You could only kill a Super by separating the head from the neck.
“We should probably tie her up before she wakes up, right?” Michelle asked.
“Sure,” Lucas said, his breathing heavy, his hands rested on his hips. “What the fuck is she doing here anyway?”
“Uh… well, I wanted to run for Mayor,” Michelle replied.
“Right,” Lucas nodded, indicating understanding, though he didn’t understand.
“And this morning you mentioned how the Supers were forming groups and battling it out against each other. I thought I’d form my own group…”
“Right,” Lucas said, nodding, and this time understanding.
“So I went to see Jocelyn,” she continued, and then pointed at the fallen Super. “That’s Jocelyn, by the way.”
“Yup, figured as much.”
“Right. Except, she didn’t want to join sides with me, didn’t think I was worthy of leading. We got into a fight. I won. But it wasn’t enough. She didn’t think I had it in me to be the leader. Said something about me not being ruthless enough. I told her that I killed Mayor Carcass, or,” she paused, smiled sheepishly. “That we did. She wanted to meet you, said if you were on my side, then the ruthless element was there.”
Lucas didn’t know how he felt about being seen as ruthless, though he supposed his survival instincts could be classified as such. “I’m guessing at no point did it occur to you that she might be pissed at me for blowing her arm off?”
Michelle’s cheeks reddened as her face fell.
“You gotta learn stuff about Supers, Michelle,” Lucas said, as he strode towards Jocelyn’s limp body. “If it had been a Super that had blown off her arm, she might have let it pass. But a Normie hurting her like that?” Lucas crouched down over Jocelyn’s body. She was lying flat on her front, her face in the dirt. “They see us as second class citizens, if that.” He turned her over. Her eyes were closed, but her lips twitched. “She’d never let it go.”
Lucas raised his fists, and as he brought them down on Jocelyn’s face, the Super’s eyes flung open.
She’d faked being unconscious.
Lucas was going to put that right, though.
He smiled down at her as his fists slammed into her face.
Chapter 8
Lucas punched Jocelyn properly unconscious. After that, bringing rope from the storage cupboard beneath the stairs, he first tied her ankles together, then her wrists behind her back, he fastened more rope around her arms and legs.
Michelle stood over him, watching with curiosity, and possibly shock. She hadn’t been too impressed at him punching Jocelyn unconscious. But she hadn’t stopped him either.
“I think you’ve tied her enough,” she said.
Lucas climbed to his feet and stared down at Jocelyn. He wasn’t sure he had. This was the first time he’d ever restrained a Super. Usually, he either killed them, or if he couldn’t do that, the second best option was to flee.
“We need more,” he said.
“You’re kidding!”
“I’m not,” Lucas muttered.
He turned Jocelyn onto her side and pulled her bound legs back, her feet now touching her ass, he tied them together with her hands.
“That should do it,” he said, rubbing his hands together.
“You sure?” Michelle asked. “I think you could add a rope or two more around her. I’m sure there’s some part of her body you haven’t tied up,” she muttered.
Lucas surveyed the Super. Her legs and arms had been bound separately, and then bound together. “Maybe you’re right.” He pointed at Jocelyn’s chest. “Maybe I could add some there?”
Michelle stared at him incredulously. Lucas couldn’t hold it. His lips twitched.
Michelle punched him on the shoulder. It was a gentle punch on her part, but being a Super, there was still power behind it, and it hurt some.
They picked up Jocelyn, Lucas grabbing her by the knees, Michelle by the arms. They carried her inside, down the stairs and into the basement. They dropped her onto the floor beside the stack of weights.
Lucas picked up a five kilogram iron cast weight in each hand.
“What
are you doing?” Michelle asked.
Lucas frowned. “You know…”
“I don’t. Why are you holding them in your hands?”
“In case she wakes up angry, breaks free from her restraints, and tries to kill me again. This would make it her third time, and you know what they say about the third time, right?”
“It’s the charm?” Michelle asked as she blew away a stray wisp of hair that strode down from her forehead to her lips.
“Yup,” Lucas said.
That was what they used to say, he remembered that much. It wasn’t a phrase that was used much anymore. In fact, since the near extinction of adults, sayings had pretty much gone out the window. That was another one, wasn’t it? Out the window? Why didn’t they say out the door? Things usually went out the door.
They faced the unconscious and bound girl on the ground. Lucas poked her with his foot. It did nothing. She remained unconscious. He stared down at her, at the dried blood on her face. The wounds from his repeated punching having healed, it was the only remaining evidence.
Lucas felt some guilt at having hurt the Super, but it was momentary guilt. He wasn’t the sentimental type. She had tried to kill him. He was entitled to fight back, to hurt her. Being a woman didn’t excuse her. He didn’t share that sort of chivalry.
Lucas poked her with his foot once more. It had no effect. Michelle dropped to her knees and placed a hand on Jocelyn’s chest. Her hand began to glow blue. Jocelyn’s white blouse melted away beneath Michelle’s hand. Her black bra followed. Jocelyn’s breasts spilled out.
As Michelle’s hand now touched skin, Jocelyn’s eyes flung open. Wide-eyed and afraid, she tried to move. Being bound, she didn’t have much success, though she managed to hobble up to the wall on her bottom.
She stared at them, her chest heaved, her breasts exposed, the nipples rose and fell. The wide-eyed look of fright vanished as her breathing calmed.
A smile spread across Jocelyn’s lips.
“Well, isn’t this nice. You’ve got me all tied up and at your mercy. What are you going to do next? Torture me?” she spoke the words to Michelle. “You haven’t got it in you.”
Lucas frowned. Jocelyn’s full attention was focused onto Michelle, not him. It was like he wasn’t even there.
“She might not, but I do,” Lucas said.
Jocelyn glanced at him, and her mask of confidence slipped as her eyes took in the two dumbbell weights he held in each hand. It was a brief slip of confidence before she turned her focus back onto Michelle. But it was enough for Lucas to know she wasn’t the bravest of Supers.
“No one’s going to torture anyone,” Michelle said, before glancing at Lucas. “At least, not if you help us.”
“Why would I help you?” Jocelyn growled.
Because we’ve got you tied up, Lucas thought. Because you know pretty well I literally kill Supers for a living. But he didn’t say that. It would do Michelle good to be in charge, to take lead. She’d need the experience if she were going to rule, if she were going to be Mayor.
“What other option do you have?” Michelle asked. “With your disability, you can’t run for Mayor yourself. Help me, and you can have a place at my side.”
“Place at your side?” Jocelyn scoffed. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? I’ve been in this town much longer than you. I’ve had to put up with Mayor Carcass’s bullshit. I’ve had to put up with Martha’s bullshit. You’ve been in town a month and now I get to take a place at your side? Go fuck yourself!”
Lucas watched as Michelle stood uncertainly, her eyes on the Super, he could see anger etched across her face. But there was hesitation there too.
Lucas dropped the weights and walked over to Michelle. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back. Once out of earshot of Jocelyn, he stopped.
“What’s the plan?” he asked. “Why do you need her?”
“The Supers vying for power in town have all formed groups. I won’t stand a chance by myself. I don’t know any other Supers who might support me. Jocelyn might,” Michelle said, her arms folded across her chest, she sighed. “But she’s being a bitch.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
Michelle raised an eyebrow. A tired one. It wasn’t physical exhaustion.
“What can I do?” Michelle asked. She gave a weak smile. “I suppose I should torture her, right. It’s what she would do to me, the bitch.”
“Yeah,” Lucas nodded.
“I-” she stopped, her eyes narrowing. “I was joking. I’m not going to torture her.”
“Why not?”
“Because-” Michelle stopped, flustered.
Lucas waited for her to continue, to finish and explain why torture was wrong.
They had both attended secondary school back in the day before The Strikes. They knew torture was wrong morally, legally too, back in those days. Probably against the Geneva Convention, or something along those lines.
But that was back in a world where slavery was wrong, where there was democracy, where there was law and order.
As Lucas stared at Michelle, watching her trying to justify her feelings, her reservations against torturing Jocelyn, he realised a part of her was still stuck in that old world.
The village she had come from, it must have been sheltered from the horrors that followed The Strikes, and The Riots.
If she wanted to be Mayor she would have to do this on her own.
“Because?” Lucas asked.
Michelle’s eyes hardened as her face stiffened. “Fine,” she said with grit. She turned and walked back towards Jocelyn. “You can do this,” Lucas heard her whisper to herself.
* * *
It turned out time was of the essence, as far as Michelle was concerned. She wanted names and details of any Supers that had yet to join Carnage or Trident. She wanted to be a third option for the Supers that had yet to decide. But those undecided Supers were dwindling in number rapidly.
Michelle’s methods weren’t working.
She was threatening, saying the right things, even got her body language right. But it wasn’t working on Jocelyn. The girl refused to budge, even laughed when Michelle punched her in the face with a glowing fist of blue.
She should have punched the Super’s teeth out, but it seemed a single punch was as far as Michelle was going to take it when it came to attacking a bound and helpless girl.
Her body language was beginning to change too. She was losing the grit. She stood over Jocelyn now, her back hunched, she looked tired. But Supers didn’t tire physically. Not that quickly. It was mental.
Lucas placed a hand on her shoulder. “Maybe you should take a break,” he told her. “Go upstairs, get some water, something to eat? A nap?”
Michelle didn’t argue. She turned and walked up the stairs without looking at Jocelyn. When she was gone, Lucas pulled the foldaway metal chairs stacked against the wall. He placed one in front of Jocelyn and sat down.
“You and I are going to have a little chat,” Lucas said. “And once we’re done, you’re going to make a choice.”
“Oooh I’m scared,” Jocelyn said.
Her voice dripped with sarcasm, her face showed grit, but there was some fear in her eyes.
“I’ve lost count of how many Supers I’ve killed in the past four, five years. I don’t lose any sleep over it.”
“You’re not going to kill me,” Jocelyn said. “Your girlfriend needs me to fulfil her fantasy of being Mayor.”
“That wasn’t the point I was trying to make,” Lucas said, smiling. “My point was, if I have no issues in killing Supers, I certainly won’t baulk at torturing one.”
“I’m not scared of you,” Jocelyn said.
“Cool. You’ve already lost an arm to me. Maybe you’ll feel differently after you lose the other arm. And your legs too. Being a Super is going to work against you. You wont die when I cut off all your limbs. You’ll just be a human box. A head and a chest.”
Jocelyn swallowed nervously and tr
ied to move back. She was already against the wall and slid a foot to the left.
“You wouldn’t,” she said. “Not even Mayor Carcass was that cruel,” she whispered.
Lucas smiled again. There was no mirror before him, but he knew the smile was cold. “You’ve got a choice to make, Jocelyn. You can be helpful, or you can be helpless, if you know what I mean.”
Lucas climbed to his feet and stretched his limbs. He felt good, felt like a Super. He walked up to the weights he had dropped earlier and picked them up. He stood over Jocelyn, a dumbbell in each hand, she stared up at him, face pale, eyes wide in horror.
There was a part of him that told him this was wrong, that torture was wrong, more so in torturing a helpless tied down girl, one whose arm he had already blown off.
Lucas pushed those feelings away. This was a new world with new rules. Had he lived by the old rules, he would have died a long time ago. What he was doing was necessary and for a good cause.
He took a deep breath and held it in. The bubble of air inside him seemed to push away his doubts. A dumbbell in each hand, Lucas swung them at Jocelyn’s face.
Chapter 9
Michelle left Lucas and Jocelyn behind, feeling emotionally exhausted. She made her way to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. She drained the glass in a single go and placed it on the counter. She turned and rested her bottom against the counter, her hands by her side, she sighed.
Maybe Jocelyn was right. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this. She thought she had been. It wasn’t that she had anything against killing. She tried to kill Mayor Carcass when she found out he was evil. She tried to kill Lucas too once, before she realised he was the good guy.
But killing someone in battle was completely different to torturing someone captive and helpless. She couldn’t do it.
She wondered if she would ever be able to do it.
She would have to, if she ever wanted to be Mayor.
She needed to be ruthless, be seen as ruthless too.
Lucas didn’t seem to have a problem with it. He had the reputation. Michelle was certain he was down there now, hurting Jocelyn.
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